


As The Snow Falls, so Do Our Spirits

by skatefasteatgrass



Series: Stories from the Summer (and all other seasons) [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: A little bit of angst, Christmas, Gen, Sequel, will just misses his fam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-07 01:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16844017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatefasteatgrass/pseuds/skatefasteatgrass
Summary: Though the festive spirit is high all around Will, he can't get into it as much as he would like. He can't stop thinking about missed opportunities, of the family he hasn't seen in years, of the little girl that sits next to him who won't tell anybody her name because her dad can't call her by it anymore.Christmas shouldn't be so harsh, but Will suddenly finds himself wishing it didn't even exist, a pang of anger and misery jolting through his system.





	1. No Snow Yet

On the first of December, Will Solace finds himself in the infirmary, trying not to cry as he throws in a desperate attempt to save the life of a young girl who had stumbled into camp, bleeding out.

It isn’t ideal. He’d been lounging in the archery range with Drew Tanaka, Lou Ellen Blackstone, Cecil Markowitz and Nico di Angelo, supervising his younger siblings while they mucked around with bows and arrows, when Conner Stoll had burst through the doors. He hadn’t said much, just grabbed Will by the shirt, hauled him up, and dragged him hastily to the big house. Now he’s yelling for nectar with a crackling voice, his eyes stinging, steady hands attempting to stop the flow of blood pouring from this girl’s stomach.  
“Bella!” He screams, pinching a silver talon and wiggling it out of the wound. “Come on, I need the fucking nectar!”  
Will has been told that he curses often when he’s panicking. He believes it.

“I’m sorry, I’m here!” Bella Swarchovski is out of breath when she slams a bottle of liquid gold into Will’s palm. She snaps a mask over her face and pulls on rubber gloves, picking up tweezers to help Will pull out debris from the cut. Her brown eyes are wide and full of fear—Will knows he should probably be training her on a less deadly injury, but he needs help, and she’s the only one other than him who knows what to do.  
Will splashes some ambrosia on the gash, cringing when the girl screeches in pain, tears streaming down her face. She only looks ten years old—too young to die.  
Will knows he and Bella _must_ succeed.

Will picks up his antiseptic and a cloth and ignores the girls cries and sobs as he cleans out the wound, dabbing at it gently. The bleeding is still heavy, but there’s hope—it’s lighter than before. Will grabs the needle and thread.  
“Hold her still,” he tells Bella, who whimpers quietly.  
“Don’t you want to give her some anaesthetic?”  
“We have jack shit for time. Feed her some ambrosia and hold her _still_.”  
Bella pushes a square of the godly food into the little girl’s mouth and presses down on her shoulders, taking a shaky, deep breath. Will calms himself and moves towards her gash.

She tries to writhe and scream while he sews her back up, but Bella is unbelievably strong. Will is finished in no time, and is wrapping up the girl with bandages, sweating and grinning like a fool, because _he’s done it_ , he’s saved her. Bella rips off her mask and gloves, wipes her brow, and smiles in relief up at Will.  
“We did it,” she whispers. Will nods and pulls her into a hug.  
“We did. Well done, Bella.”  
Will never thought he could be this proud of his sister. He lets her go and stretches his arms.  
“Go tell Chiron she’s alive,” Will tells her. _Alive_ , he thinks. _Not ‘okay’._  
Because now the hardest part comes. Now he has to ask her what happened, and why she was alone.

He pulls up a chair and takes a seat next to the girl, who’s crying silently into her hands. Will squeezes her shoulder.  
“Hey,” he says kindly. “It’s okay. You’ll be alright. You’re safe now.”  
Mandatory words. Will thinks he’s said them thousands of times now. The girl sniffles.  
“It’s not okay,” she sobs. She opens her eyes, and Will gets to see them properly for the first time. They’re emerald green, the colour of a forest canopy. “My daddy, he was trying to get me here, he said we’d be okay if we just got here, but then that… that _thing_ killed him!”  
The girl is hyperventilating, and Will knows she’s not going to be consolable for a while, so he smooths down her black hair and starts to hum. It’s a simple hymn, one he uses often, one his father always listens to—one to put his patients into a restful sleep.  
It’s a wonder what rest can do for the mind.

When the girl finally falls under, Will feels dizzy and nauseous, but he’s used to this feeling. It happens every time he heals somebody with large wounds. It happened full force the time he saved Annabeth Chase’s life.  
“Will.” Will turns around to see Chiron in the doorway, Bella at his side. Will chews the inside of his cheek.  
“Go get changed,” he tells her quietly. She’s been in her scrubs all day, and Will knows how much she hates them—how itchy they make her feel. Bella nods gratefully and turns around.  
“Do you know her name?” Chiron asks, wheeling over to where Will and the little girl are situated. Will shakes his head.

“She was too hysterical to tell me anything, really,” he mumbles. “But I did catch that whatever hurt her killed her dad, too. I don’t know anything else.”  
Chiron sighs, his eyes full of a certain sadness. “Such a tragedy, even this close to the holidays.”  
“Ah… the holidays. I forgot about that.”  
This is a lie. Will has been thinking about the upcoming festive holiday since late October, when he’d received a call from his mortal family to say they were coming to visit for a day or two. He’s a cheerful person on any usual occasion, but the news has put him in an excellent mood for months, broken only by the little girl’s condition.

“You should go back to your friends,” Chiron says, looking up to meet Will’s eyes. “When I passed them on the way here, Mr di Angelo was rather upset.”  
Will has to fight off a beaming smile. It’s still a strange feeling, knowing he has a boyfriend—and that it’s _Nico di Angelo_ , of all people. It puts him over the moon, usually until Drew pulls him back down with a groan of ‘you guys give me fucking _cavities_ , honestly’.  
“I’ll go back,” Will agrees. He stands up and sways a little, but not enough to make Chiron worried. “You’ll look after her, right?”  
Chiron nods solemnly.  
“Of course.”

On that happy note, Will exits the infirmary, walks out of the big house, and makes his way back to the archery range. His head still spins from the hymns and the blessings, so he plugs a pair of headphones into his phone (monster-free—thank you, Leo) and clicks shuffle. Some song Drew once recommended to him plays softly in his ears, and slowly but surely, the dizziness ebbs away. It’s strange; despite never having any musical talent, Will always feels better if there’s music playing. He supposes it’s just part of being Apollo’s son.  
Winter hasn’t quite made itself known yet. Of course, it wouldn’t—it’s only the first day of December. Will isn’t expecting any snow until midway through the month.  
But the weather is bitterly cold, windy and sharp. Will gets cold easily, so he’s already wearing his snowboarding jacket and thick pants, long socks and boots, his beanie to keep his ears warm.

The sun is watery, and it makes Will feel constantly sleepy. Often, he can’t keep his eyes open during classes at camp, and it’s been hard to focus on much. He guesses she should expect this, though, because it happens to all of his siblings—Kayla especially. He’s had to carry her back to the cabin from dinner three times in the past week.  
When Will enters the archery range with a yawn, his siblings have deserted the place. He knows they’re starting their showers, getting ready for dinner, so he doesn’t stress. He simply locates his friends and collapses with them.

“You’re covered in blood,” is the first thing Cecil says when he sees him again. Lou Ellen elbows him sharply.  
“She was bleeding out,” Will explains. Nico frowns, curling his hand around Will’s arm subtly, thin fingers running over his skin comfortingly.  
“Who?” He asks. Will shrugs, relishing in the affection Nico delivers, even if it’s small.  
“A new girl. Her dad was killed by whatever attacked her.” He pauses. “She looked about ten years old.”  
Drew sucks a short breath through her teeth. Will glances up at her to see that she’s ditched her coat, replaced it with a red sweater.  
“She’s okay now, right?” She asks. Will nods and casts his eyes to the ceiling—his own personal _drop it_ sign. Drew takes it.

“So I was thinking—” she’s the master of switching topics. “—we should have a Christmas party this year.”  
“Like, a _party_ party?” Lou Ellen asks. “Or a gathering where everybody sits and eats? Gonna be honest, I’m fine with both.”  
“No, a proper party. Who do you think I am, Lou Ellen?” Drew rolls her eyes, studies her glittery red nails. “All the older kids. We’ll cut the age off at Nico.”  
“Thanks.” Nico’s voice is deep and full of sarcasm. Will snickers.  
“Sorry, you’re the group baby. Anyway, I’ll just get Adrien, Val and Elysna to help me set everything up, so you guys don’t have to worry about that.”

“Feels like that was just a direct hit at our decorating skills,” Cecil points out. Drew, never blunt, snaps her fingers.  
“Yeah, it was. Look, it’ll be fun! Give it a chance, alright?”  
“We’ll have to invite Percy and Annabeth,” Nico adds with a grumble. Will has never found out why he’s sensitive about inviting Percy Jackson to anything—he has never asked. “They’re visiting for the holidays.”  
“Only for a week,” Will says. He distinctly remembers Percy saying something about staying with his mother after they leave.  
“I like it.” Lou Ellen high-fives Drew and leans back on her arms. “Eggnog?”  
“Always, Blackstone.”  
“Wonderful!”

Will is just about to ask where they would host the party when his pockets starts vibrating. He rips his earphones from the device and stands up—the screen lights up with a picture of his twelve-year-old self, kissing his mother on the cheek. The contact name reads _‘mom’_.  
“I have to take this,” Will says, his heart speeding up a little. He can’t wait until his family gets to camp; it’s been so long since he’s seen them all. His mother, his stepfather, his stepbrother, Finn, and his little sister Sophie.  
“Tell Naomi I said hi!” Cecil insists. The rest of Will’s friends tag on, and it gets too loud for a phone call, so Will leaves the range once more. The wind nips at his hands as he answers.

“Hey, mom!” There’s a grin on his face that Will’s pretty sure would classify as ‘dorky’ if Nico could see it. There’s a puff of breath on the other end of the line.  
“Hi, Will!” Naomi Solace’s voice sort of makes Will want to cry. He misses her _so fucking much_. “How’s camp?”  
“It’s awesome. Always is. Cecil, Drew, Lou Ellen and Nico say hi.”  
“And I say hi to them! Speaking of Nico, how is he?”  
Will can already feel his face burn red. He cradles his phone with two hands to stop the wind from interfering.  
“He’s great, mom.”  
“You should bring him home for New Year’s Eve! He can meet us all.”

Will isn’t stupid. Sure, he can be a little slow, and his memory is far, _far_ from perfect, but he isn’t _stupid_. His breath hitches.  
“But… aren’t you guys coming to visit in a week?”  
Naomi clears her throat, and suddenly her voice is not so cheery—not so happy and excited.  
“Will, about that…” She sighs. “The airline we were catching to New York just went broke and shut down. They weren’t able to refund any tickets previously bought.”  
Will’s heart sinks.  
“Wait, what?”  
“Craig is working as hard as he can in the restaurant, and I’m working overtime in the ambulances, but we’re not sure if we’re going to be able to scrape together enough to afford tickets in time. Last minute tickets are always hard to catch.”

Will’s throat closes up. His eyes are burning, but he’s not sure if it’s the wind or painful tears.  
“You mean you can’t come?” He whispers. Naomi is quiet for a minute, before she speaks up again.  
“I’m sorry, Will, we wanted to come. We were so excited, and the gods know better than anyone that you were too, but buying four two-way tickets _once_ was hard enough with the money we have. Buying another set is almost impossible.”  
Will knows money is tight with his family, especially around Christmas—there’s only so much that can come in when Naomi works minimum-wage as a paramedic, and his stepdad works in a one-location restaurant. It isn’t a big help that the record label supporting Naomi has also recently gone bust, and her music is rapidly declining in popularity.

But it still hurts him, like a stream of lava going down his oesophagus and into his intestines.

“It’s okay, mom,” Will promises, even though it’s not. “I’ll give you guys your gifts at New Year’s. I’ll bring Nico.”  
“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart,” Naomi sounds bittersweet. “I love you, Will. Finn, Sophie and Craig say hi.”  
“I do, too.”

The line goes dead just as Will starts to cry.


	2. Now There's Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is so so bad I am so so sorry

Will makes a promise to himself to not let his disappointment affect his siblings or friends, because it’s Christmas, and it’s supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year.  
It’s difficult—Nico is especially good at noticing when something isn’t sitting right with Will. So, Will has to tell everybody that his family can’t make it for Christmas, and he isn’t afraid of telling everybody why, but he _is_ afraid of the pitying looks he might receive, because they will make him cry again.  
He’s thankful when only a couple scattered people look at him with guilt behind their eyes. They’re easy to ignore. Chiron mentions something about setting up an Iris message, but Will declines; his mother has never been a fan of bringing demigod communication into her house, in case it attracts monsters. Will understands.

And throughout it all, Will keeps a straight face. He’s proud of himself, especially when he goes right back to grinning afterwards.

“Will.”  
Will bites back a scowl and ignores the tugging of his sleeve, because he knows Kayla will only be bothering him about something stupid—probably going back to begging him for more ear piercings. He makes a show of running his thumb and a scissor blade over the gold ribbon in his hand, watching it bounce into curls. Wrapping presents is usually his escape from the chaos around him, but with his head buzzing and missing his family, it’s not really worth it. He sort of wishes he had invited his friends to do it with him.  
“Will!”  
“What?” Will finally gives in and turns around to see Kayla. Her eyes are narrowed into slits, and her shock of green hair sticks out against her black earmuffs.

“What do you want for Christmas?” She asks, plopping down to sit next to him. Will breathes out a sigh.  
_My family to visit,_ he thinks.  
“I don’t know,” he says. Kayla watches him carefully, traces her eyes over his hands as he pulls Nico’s present towards him and sets it down on shiny, silver paper.  
“You want a new surfboard?” Kayla asks. Will tucks the paper gently over the little box, making sure he doesn’t knock it over and risk getting the leather band inside tangled.  
“You don’t have enough money for a new surfboard,” Will points out. Kayla taps her chin.  
“A car?”  
“That’s more expensive than a board.”

Kayla goes quiet again. Will runs his fingers slowly over Nico’s gift—he’d found it when he was shopping with Drew one day. At first, he disregarded it, but on a closer glance, he’d reconsidered. It was a normal-length leather coil, braided with a thin strand of gold fibres, and in the middle hung a black crystal in the shape of a soaring bird. Will remembered it as onyx, since Lou Ellen had told him about it only a few days previous. It seemed stupid at the time, and still does, but Will had picked it up and purchased it because in his own experiences, onyx was a wonder at helping with anxiety—Nico could probably make good use of it.  
Besides, he figured the bird was like a representation of being free. Nico had mentioned that he felt trapped, enslaved by old memories, and he just wanted to help.

“I could get you some new earrings,” Kayla suggests, and flicks Will’s earlobe. He bats her away.  
“Drew already said she was on that,” he says, moving his hand to toy with the gold studs. Kayla grins.  
“I’ll get you a hat that says, ‘make America gay again,” she whispers cheekily. Will can’t help but chuckle.  
“If you _really_ want to get me something,” he says slowly, curling the last black ribbon on Nico’s present. “You could get me a flag.”  
“Little or big? Pan or trans?”  
“Surprise me.”  
“Okay!” Kayla scrambles to her feet and ruffles Will’s hair. “I’ll do that. And, by the way, Nico told me to tell you that the little girl from last week is talking. He’s been having a conversation with her all day.”

Will freezes. He’s completely forgotten about that poor girl, about how hysterical she’s been and how she refuses to talk.  
Now, according to Kayla, she’s speaking.  
Will springs up and bids a quick goodbye to Kayla, before sprinting towards the big house as fast as his feet can take him. He’s a fast runner, always has been, and he thinks he owes it to his cross-country participation in elementary school. Naomi always tells him he’s as fast as Forrest Gump, which always cheered him up when he was bullied as a kid. He loves Forrest Gump, even though he cries every time he watches the movie.

“I’m here!” Will skids to a halt at the door to the infirmary and receives a shushing gesture from Nico. He’s chatting lightly with the girl, who has dried trails of tear son her cheeks and a tiny smile on her lips. Will’s heart melts as he watches Nico talk slowly with his hands and laugh in the right places, just enough to make the girl huff a tiny giggle.  
“Who’s that?” The girl eventually points at Will and whispers to Nico.  
“You don’t remember him?” Nico asks, cocking his head. “He fixed you when you got here.”  
The girl studies Will with intrigue and hesitance. Eventually, she tucks her knees to her chest and nods, which Will takes as an invitation over. He slides across the floor, thick, Christmas-printed socks gliding on the wooden floors.

“Hey,” he introduces himself gently. “I’m Will. I can see you’ve met Nico.”  
“Are you guys friends?” The little girl asks timidly. Will wraps an arm around Nico and shows off a beaming grin, feeling a little better already.  
“He’s my boyfriend,” he says. Nico’s face flushes red, but the girls burst into a smile.  
“My cousin has a boyfriend!” She exclaims. “That’s cool.”  
“It _is_ cool,” Nico agrees, standing up. “But I have to go. I’ll speak to you guys later.”  
He leaves the infirmary with a stride in his step that makes Will stare. Once he’s gone, he redirects his attention to the girl.

“Did you tell Nico your name?” He says. The girl’s face sobers and darkens immediately.  
“No,” she mutters feebly.  
“You don’t want to tell us your name?”  
“Not yet.”  
Will shrugs. He remembers when he first arrived at camp, so hesitant to tell anybody his name because it didn’t quite fit him. Lou Ellen had been similar—she didn’t trust anybody enough to reveal it.  
“That’s okay. I’ll call you…” Will scans the infirmary, and his eyes come to rest on a bough of holly in the corner of the ceiling. “Holly. Yeah? Just in time for Christmas.”  
“I like that,” the girl whispers.  
“Okay.” Will bumps Holly’s fist. “Holly it is.”

Holly withdraws her fist almost as quickly as she had put it out, and curls into herself. Will’s heart is throbbing, aching. Her green eyes are filling up with tears again, slowly but surely, and her lip wobbles.  
“Nico said I’m gonna have to sleep in a cabin with lots of people,” she says quietly and shakily. “And he said it would be fun, but I don’t want that. I want to sleep with only a few people. Too much noise makes me feel sick, and scared.”  
Will doesn’t know what to say at first. He’s only heard of a couple of people who are like Holly—he’s pretty sure the condition isn’t even noted as ‘real’ quite yet, though he knows it exists. Bella’s friend, Malcolm Pace has it—Will recalls the name misophonia.

“I get it,” he says eventually. “Well, there are only a couple of people in my cabin at the moment, because most of them have gone home to spend the holidays with their mortal families. Maybe Chiron can let you stay with me.”  
Holly looks apprehensive to begin with, which Will understands. They barely know each other.  
Still, when Will looks down and sees the stitches in Holly’s side, his chest scrunches together in the weird way it does whenever he feels connected to somebody. He feels oddly protective of Holly, very similar to how he feels about Bella and Kayla and Austin and all of his siblings.  
Of his mortal family.

“Sounds good,” Holly finally mutters. Will’s lips lift up just a little at the corners, tugging without him even trying.  
“Awesome,” he holds out a hand, and Holly takes it cautiously. “Let’s go get some dinner.”

* * *

Dinner is weird.

Will can’t quite put a finger on _why_ it’s weird, but it truly is. Because the holidays are coming up, Chiron has abandoned the ‘cabin tables’, so Will sits with Nico pressed into his side, Drew across from him (and stealing his fries, but all in good humour, because they both know Will doesn’t like fries anyway), Lou Ellen and Cecil next to Drew and Nico respectively, and Holly kicking her legs and nibbling on some fruits on his right.  
“—I keep _telling_ Adrien that if he likes him so much, to just ask him out, but he won’t listen to me!” Drew snorts. “Not that that’s anything new, though.”  
“Well, it’s not like Rhys is going to be making any first moves.” Lou Ellen shovels roasted lamb into her mouth like she’s not going to live to see another barbeque. “He’s oblivious to any and all romantic interest anybody ever shows to him.”

“Haven’t Adrien and Rhys gone out before?” Cecil asks through a mouthful of pizza, picked clean of olives. “And, like… wasn’t it the most chaotic thing the camp has ever witnessed? Didn’t Adrien fuck Rhys over?”  
“Cecil!” Will shouts, moving to block Holly’s ears. “Watch your language.”  
“Sorry, Doc,” Cecil says, not looking very sorry. He frowns. “Why’s she here, anyway? There are lots of children at this camp.”  
“Because I’m looking after her,” Will insists. “She’s new and lonely and sad.”  
“I can hear you,” Holly says, poking at Will’s hands. “Let go of my ears.”

Will pulls his hands back to himself. Maybe dinner is so weird because Holly is here with him, and he’s not used to her presence. But there is no way he’s going to just drop her off with somebody—he feels responsible for the poor girl.  
Drew, Cecil and Lou Ellen go back to discussing gossip and dumb relationships, and Nico turns to Will. His eyes are shining.  
“I’m kinda excited for Christmas,” he mentions. Will’s stomach churns ( _my family,_ he thinks miserably, _would love you so fucking much_ ), but he beams, and takes Nico’s hand, brushing his thumb over his knuckles.  
“Me too,” he says softly. Suddenly, a small gasp rings out from his right, and he spins around immedietly.

Holly is staring above her head with a gaping mouth. She opens her tiny little fists to catch the equally small, white flakes that drift down slowly. Bits and pieces land on her nose, and Will feels them collect in his lashes.  
“It’s snowing!” Holly exclaims, and Will can’t find it in himself to be sad right now, because this girl is finally _happy_. Or at least, she is for the moment.  
“Fuck yeah it is,” Will says, and turns back to Nico, who’s smiling—just a little. Enough to make Will nervous.  
“I thought we were watching our language,” he says. Will rolls his eyes.  
“As if she didn’t already hear Cecil.”


	3. Snow Falls, Just as Our Hopes Do

Will doesn’t know why or how, but on December the thirteenth, he finds himself hanging out with Rhys Winters.

Of course, Holly _is_ trailing after him. She hasn’t left his side since Will first named her, which is a little irritating sometimes, but Will doesn’t _really_ mind. She’s helpful when it comes to simple things like getting people’s attention, or finding something that’s been lost. And she’s quiet, good company.  
Will has a sneaking suspicion that the reason he and Holly are currently helping Rhys cut out paper snowflakes to tape all over Lou Ellen’s bed as a small prank is because Holly has grown attached to him. Rhys has always been good with kids, good at entertaining them and making them laugh. It’s a shame he’s not so great with himself.

Then again, maybe the reason Holly is so comfortable around Rhys is because he’s been through a similar situation to her. His father and brother were killed by a monster before he arrived at camp—maybe the shared experience has formed a bond between the two.  
Whatever the case, Holly has taken a liking to Rhys. She’s currently taping up the last of the snowflakes, watching Rhys flick his fingers and make the paper unbreakable. Will is pretty sure Lou Ellen is never going to get over this, and at the very least, she’ll be doing everything she can to get back at her brother.

“So, I heard about your mortal family.” Rhys’s accent is lazy and Australian, a permanent reminder of the home he can’t return to. “That sucks, bro. I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be,” Will replies. He keeps a lookout for Lou Ellen through the cabin’s window, eyes narrowed. His heart clenches at the mention of his family. “It’s not your fault. Besides, I’m going to see them for New Year’s, and I’m taking Nico so they can meet him. It’s fine.”  
It’s totally _not_ fine, but Will doesn’t know Rhys well enough to complain to him. Rhys shrugs, his hoodie loose on his shoulders and around his collarbone.

“It’ll turn out okay, I’m sure. How are things going with you and Nico, by the way?”  
“Great!” Will tries so hard to make his voice enthusiastic, because he really does like Nico and he’s happy in the relationship with him, but everyday he’s finding it harder and harder to sound excited about anything. The news of his family has hit him pretty hard, and there’s something about Holly that makes him feel… lost. Nostalgic, or at least somewhat. He’s not sure what it is.  
Rhys doesn’t seem to pick up on Will’s slim, fake film. He grins.

“Yeah, I’ve heard relationships are good. Personally, I can’t say much to back it up, but I’m sure you and Nico are good.”  
Will frowns.  
“Haven’t you been in a relationship before? I swear you went out with someone a couple of years ago…”  
Rhys’s expression turns sour, and he shoves his hands into his jumper pocket. His jaw is set, his blue eyes freezing.  
“I don’t talk about that,” he says, scowling. Will takes the hint, and turns back to see Holly finishing her last snowflake. Her green eyes, that incredible and eerie shade of green that always paralyses Will, are sparkling.

“Ready to go, now,” she says, and climbs up to sit in Will’s arms. She’s heavy, but Will says nothing. “Thanks, Rhys!”  
“No problem, kiddo.” Rhys ruffles Holly’s dark hair, and he looks a little better now, but there’s still a haunted look in his gaze. “I’ll tell you what Lou Ellen does.”  
Holly smiles, and waves as Will takes her out of the cabin.  
“He’s like my brother,” she says happily. Will’s heart picks up the pace, and he nods carefully, pulse in his ears.  
“Brother, huh? You wanna tell me about your brother?” Holly still hasn’t told anybody about her family, so Will is doing his utmost best to pry something out of her. It’s bad enough that her godly parent still hasn’t claimed her… Will is sick of having to look after somebody he knows next to nothing about.

“I… I don’t,” Holly whispers. She hugs Will’s neck tightly. “So never mind.”  
Will doesn’t even make a sound. He should have expected that answer, anyway.  
Somehow, they make it to the infirmary without Will’s neck cramping. Holly jumps off his back and looks around nervously.  
“I don’t like here,” she says with jitters in her voice. Will sighs, because yes, he knows this, Holly tells him every day. But it’s not like he can just _not_ come here—people are catching the flu left, right and centre, and he has to help them. It’s his _job_.  
“Sorry, Holly, but I have to help the sick people.” Will picks up a bundle of ambrosia-spiked pills he uses for the common cold and similar viruses, and gives them to Holly to hold.

The pair wander around the infirmary and give out the medication to grateful, sleepy and coughing patients. Every time somebody sneezes or starts hacking into their hand, Holly screws up her face and shuts her hands over her ears. At this point, Will is fairly certain she has misophonia. He thinks that he should probably get Malcolm to talk to her about it.  
“Hey, Drew,” Will takes one of the tiny packets of pills and pegs it at Drew’s head. She scowls with red eyes and downs her tablet dry.  
“I cannot _believe_ this stupid flu had the fucking _nerve_ to infect me,” she says, throat raw and croaky. “Near Christmas, nonetheless! Disgusting.”

“Yeah, now Bella won’t even come near you.” Nico appears out of nowhere and drops into the seat next to Drew’s bed. Drew’s face and neck go red, and she whacks him with the back of her hand.  
“Whatever. Merry fucking Christmas to me, huh?” Drew folds her arms and falls back onto her pillow.  
“You’ll get better soon, Drew,” Nico reassures her, swinging a bauble back and forth on his finger. “Look, cheer up. Tis the season to be jolly, right?”  
Drew’s lips quirk upwards in what Will suspects to be a tiny smile—though you can never quite tell with Drew. She pulls a candy-cane out of her pocket, cherry flavoured, pops it into her mouth, and shrugs.  
“Right.”

Holly clambers onto a seat and pulls Will down to sit with her. She starts rambling about holidays and pine trees and gingerbread houses, and Bella (from across the room, a safe distance away from Drew and her sickness) promises to help her put the spiced dessert together.  
And suddenly, Will’s mind flashes back to his first Christmas with his stepdad, stepbrother _and_ half-sister.

 _“You have to use the icing as glue,” Will instructs, perhaps a little too bossy, but he gets like this often, especially near Christmas. Finn nods with a beaming smile—he’s only eight, so Will feels very old around him. Four years makes a big difference, he thinks._  
“You boys doing a good job?” Naomi walks into the kitchen with six-month-old Sophie on her hip, sucking her thumb and half asleep.  
“It’s gonna be so wicked!” Finn yells. Will nods excitedly, his hair drooping in his eyes. He should probably get a haircut, soon.  
“I’m glad.” Craig looks up from his book and adjusts his glasses. Will smiles, feeling pride in his chest when Craig nods and smiles at him. He aims to make his stepfather happy.

 _“Christmas is going to be so much fun, Mom,” Will whispers with a grin. “We’re all one big family for this one.”  
Naomi chuckles.  
“We’ll always be one big family, love.” She sets Sophie down on the benchtop, and Will watches his little sister wave her fists and gurgle happily. His heart is full of love and content when he reaches out his index finger for her to grab and look at it with wide blue eyes.  
“Hey, Sophie!” Finn picks out one of the sugar-coated jubes they’re using on the roof of the house. “Open wide!”  
Will is pretty sure a baby isn’t allowed chewy things, especially things so small and choke-able, so he takes it from Finn and cuts it up into tiny pieces. _Then _he lets Sophie have it._

_There is an atmosphere of perfection and coziness, comfort and the festive spirit, and Will can hardly wait until he wakes up tomorrow, ready for hot cocoas and presents and warm hugs from his whole family._

Now, Will feels horrible. You would think a memory such as this one would excite him, or make him feel whole, but it just feels painfully nostalgic.  
And though the festive spirit is high all around him, he can't get into it as much as he would like. He can't stop thinking about missed opportunities, of the family he hasn't seen in years, of the little girl that sits next to him who won't tell anybody her name because her dad can't call her by it anymore.  
Christmas shouldn't be so harsh, but Will suddenly finds himself wishing it didn't even exist, a pang of anger and misery jolting through his system.

* * *

The campfire singalong irks Will, because everybody is having the time of their lives, singing carols and wearing Santa hats, and he feels like he’s missing out on something massive.  
“So the party is on the 23rd of December,” Drew says from her position between Lou Ellen and Cecil. “Because I put a bunch of dates into a hat and picked one out at random.”  
“Sounds like a bad idea,” Lou Ellen says through a mouthful of marshmallow. A glittering pair of red antlers are nestled in her hair. Drew rolls her eyes.  
“Anyway, I’ve got everything planned and under control. It’s going to be great. Percy and Annabeth already said they’re going to come, Piper told me.”

“Good for them,” Will mumbles. He means it, he hopes, but he knows the words come out sarcastic and moody. He can’t help it—he feels like shit.  
“What’s _up_ with you today, dude?” Cecil asks. He sets down his harmonica (Will doesn’t even want to know where he found a harmonica) and leans back against his hands. “You’re so down and glum. Cheer up, it’s Christmas!”  
“Yeah, whatever.” Will wants to steal Nico’s hoodie, pull the hood over his head, tug down the drawstrings and disappear forever. He hates talking so rudely, but he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to stop.

Will hears Nico whisper ‘give him a break, he’s still dealing with… you know, the mortal family thing’, and grits his teeth. He seriously wishes he could be so much less angry right now.  
“I’m just tired, I’m fine,” Will insists, but he knows Drew can see right through him.  
Thank every god in Olympus, she decides not to say anything. Rather, she plucks her perfectly-cooked marshmallow off her stick and blows on it for a couple of seconds, before offering it to him.  
“Can I offer you a marshmallow in these trying times?” She chuckles. Will takes it from her with the smallest of smiles, and bites into the crispy, thin layer of sugar on the outside.

He’s about to speak up and say something, probably about the perfection of Drew’s cooking (seriously, how the _fuck_ is she so good at this?), when Lou Ellen yells out in surprise and drops her mineral water on Cecil’s pants.  
“What? What’s wrong?” Nico asks frantically. Lou Ellen, still gaping, doesn’t say anything. She just points to Holly, who has miraculously decided to sit with Rhys and Miranda Gardiner tonight.  
When Will casts his eyes towards her, his breath gets caught in his throat. Above Holly’s head, a deep purple symbol has appeared, licked with royal blue sparks. Two crossed torches.

Will’s seen this symbol twice before, but he can’t remember when or who’s heads it floated above.  
“Who’s symbol is that?” He asks quietly. Lou Ellen meets his eyes.  
“Hecate’s.”  
Will can’t breathe. He doesn’t know why, but it almost seems like a betrayal that Holly would be in Lou Ellen’s cabin, and not his. He turns back to her to see the symbol sputter out and rain blue, glittering magic down over Holly’s head. Her green eyes shine with awe as she looks up at where it once hung.  
“Welcome to cabin twenty, kiddo,” Rhys Winters says, clapping Holly on the shoulder. Lou Ellen stands up and runs towards them; as head counsellor, it’s her job. Will knows this better than anyone.

But even as he watches, he feels a pang of jealousy. It’s always felt like Holly is his younger sister.  
He doesn’t know why, but he does know this:  
The holidays are getting worse even as he watches.


End file.
